


Allegory

by ToxicPineapple



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Banter, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humour, It's honestly just really fluffy, M/M, Storytelling, angst if you squint, healthy relationship, non-binary amami rantaro, one (1) kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: “Alright, then,” Rantaro starts, tossing their head a little. “I’ve got your story. There was a crow, once.”Kokichi scoffs. “Really? Your allegorical self-insert is a crow? That’s so Hot Topic of you, Taro-chan.”“Who said this is my allegorical self-insert?” Rantaro frowns. “Maybe I come in later on in the story.”“Puh-lease, Rantaro, everyone starts their fake-not-fake stories with their allegorical self-insert! People are lame and boring, remember?”“Right, my bad,” Rantaro smiles, wryly. “Can I continue now?”---Kokichi asks Rantaro to tell him a story.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Oma Kokichi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84
Collections: August 2020 Server Gift Exchange





	Allegory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jimcloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimcloud/gifts).



> hi jim i love you

“Taro-chaaan,” Kokichi lies himself down, splaying himself out across Rantaro’s lap, and Rantaro smiles at the endearment, “I’m bored. Tell me a story.”

Rantaro won’t mind doing that, but before they indulge him, they quirk an eyebrow, their upper lip curling inquisitively. “You’re bored?” they ask, carefully marking the page they’re on in their book and putting it to the side. They’re already running through a list of potential stories they could tell Kokichi right now, and Kokichi probably knows as much, but they keep talking regardless. “Am I not amusing enough for you, Kich? Should I do a couple handstands?”

“You could,” Kokichi grins, toothy and wide, tilting his head back and peering up at Rantaro through squinty crescent moon eyes. “But that’s totes not what I asked for, and if you even try and move me for handstand shenanigans, I’ll kill your family.”

“Aw,” Rantaro frowns, “I really wanted to do a handstand for you.”

Kokichi giggles. “Maybe later.” He shuffles a little, pulling himself properly into Rantaro’s lap, and swats at their arm. Lightly, though, Kokichi is all about those light, playful touches, the goofy grins and teasing threats. They both know Kokichi would never actually follow through on something like that, never make a move to hurt Rantaro in any serious way. Of course there have been times where he’s gone too far (as there have been times when Rantaro hasn’t been there when they should’ve been, has missed countless phone calls and took a plane back too late) but they’ve worked hard to get to this point, where they know each other well enough that they don’t need to specify a joke, where they feel safe enough to joke like that in the first place.

(It’s the kind of thing that years of losing have taught Rantaro not to take for granted. They could never take Kokichi for granted, not the way he smiles and laughs and not the quiet, thoughtful way he gets when he realises that something is wrong. It’s why Rantaro is so quick to put their book to the side, to start searching for stories to tell Kokichi, ways to indulge him. Not because Rantaro thinks Kokichi is going to leave, because they know he wouldn’t, not without a good reason, but just… because anything could happen at any time, and Rantaro wants to make the best of it, that’s all.)

“Right now, though,” Kokichi sits himself up, shuffles some more and then plops his head right onto Rantaro’s shoulder, peering up at them through his eyelashes, “tell me a story, peasant! That wasn’t a request, y’know! I keep you around for a reason.”   
  


Chuckling, Rantaro says, “You’re such a brat,” and Kokichi pouts, but they look thoughtfully to the side a moment later, already opening their mouth to comply before Kokichi can retort. “Hmmm. Did you want a fake story, or one about my sisters?”

“Taro-chan, I’ll listen to you tell me about your sisters any day of the week,” Kokichi says. Rantaro waits for a but that doesn’t come. “Choose whatever you wanna tell me. My subjects oughta have a bit more independence. Super booooring when I have to tell you what to do all the time. Yawn.” Kokichi mimics yawning into his sleeve, but doesn’t make any sound when he does so, cracking one of his eyes open and looking at Rantaro expectantly. He doesn’t speak again, but the  _ well?  _ is implied.

Rantaro briefly entertains the notion of telling Kokichi about the time Satsuki got mad at them and talked Kasumi into helping her paint their room bright pink while they were out on a trip for their dad, but there’s not much of a story to that one, unless Rantaro wants to talk about how specifically they made Satsuki angry, and honestly to this day they don’t fully know. And of course even after having found Satsuki in Berlin asking her for input on the topic doesn’t really do a lot because… the obvious… so…

Maybe a fictional story. Or not entirely fictional, but allegorical. Kokichi loves those. He eats that shit up. Rantaro is half convinced that every story Kokichi has ever told them before has been an allegory of some kind, even if it was just an allegory for the time Kokichi fell and scraped his knee back in third year elementary school. (Not all metaphors have depth.)

While they contemplate the precise subject matter, Rantaro curls their arm around Kokichi’s back. As always, he tenses a little in their embrace-- because he’s still iffy with a lot of contact if it’s not initiated by him-- but before Rantaro can offer to pull away, he relaxes again, and cozies up to them, leaning his side against their own, tucking their forehead against their neck. He looks sweet like that, his eyes half-lidded while he waits for Rantaro to make up their mind, comfortable in Rantaro’s embrace.

  
“I’m  _ waiting,  _ Taro-chan,” Kokichi says, in a slightly petulant tone, and Rantaro laughs. In truth, the reason they took so long was because they were trying to work out whether they  _ really  _ wanted to be that sappy right here and now, but listening to Kokichi’s tone of voice only reinforced the urge, so here they go.

“Alright, then,” Rantaro starts, tossing their head a little. “I’ve got your story. There was a crow, once.”

Kokichi scoffs. “Really? Your allegorical self-insert is a crow? That’s so  _ Hot Topic  _ of you, Taro-chan.”

“Who said this is my allegorical self-insert?” Rantaro frowns. “Maybe I come in later on in the story.”

“Puh-lease, Rantaro, everyone starts their fake-not-fake stories with their allegorical self-insert! People are lame and boring, remember?”

“Right, my bad,” Rantaro smiles, wryly. “Can I continue now?”

“If you must,” Kokichi huffs, like he’s doing them some kind of major service by allowing them to tell him a story that  _ he  _ asked them for.

“Okay,” Rantaro chuckles, “so there was this crow. He was a very smart bird,” and Kokichi raises his eyebrows at them, probably because the use of he/him pronouns is a major indicator that Rantaro is not, in fact, kin assigning themself a crow. He doesn’t interrupt this time, though, just listens, his expression blank with his brows quirked. “Crows are usually pretty smart, y’know, but this one was extra intelligent. Cunning and insightful.” Rantaro rubs Kokichi’s back a little bit as they speak. “Of course, he didn’t act like it most of the time.”

“A common feature amongst geniuses,” Kokichi commentates, which makes Rantaro laugh. He doesn’t take very long to catch on when it comes to these things, now, does he.

“Right, you would know,” Rantaro says, and Kokichi flutters his eyelashes a bit but doesn’t speak. “He was tricky, you know. Confusing. Talking to him for a few minutes gave most people a headache, so a lot of them tried not to. At least, that’s what I was always hearing about him.” Rantaro looks up at the ceiling rather than at their boyfriend, tracing the lines in the plaster with their eyes. “That he never took anything seriously, or cared about anyone other than himself. But the opposite was true, of course. He cared about a lot of people, he just acted like that on purpose, so that nobody would get close.”

Kokichi doesn’t appear to have anything to say to  _ that  _ one, which Rantaro thinks is valid. He wasn’t actually asking to get scalped with this whole storytime thing, but that’s just kind of how allegories go, so, sorry, Kokichi.

“The crow thought it was safer to act like a bad guy than to show how he really felt,” Rantaro continues, still rubbing circles in Kokichi’s back. “Because people were untrustworthy and dangerous, and getting close to them would only end in his getting stabbed in the back, so he thought.”

“Still true,” Kokichi mutters, “just with a couple key exceptions,” and Rantaro smiles, but decides to let that remark slide for now. It’s an ongoing issue. It isn’t as though they don’t both have plenty of those.

“So the crow lived like that for a while,” Rantaro says, tilting their head. This is always the hardest part of these stories. “Until he met a… uh. Koala.”

“You’re making yourself a koala?”

“Shh.”

“Taro-chan, aside from being an obnoxious big spoon,” Kokichi wrinkles his nose, “you’re sorta lacking in the koala department, y’know?”

“I like eucalyptus plenty,” Rantaro pouts, “and I had to make a decision on the spot, cut me some slack, here.”

“The difference here, though, is that Taro-chan, unlike koalas, will die if he eats it.”

“Kich, please don’t do me like this.”

“As your favourite boyfriend, it’s my job to do you like this,” Kokichi grins, and Rantaro considers pointing out that Kokichi is also their  _ only  _ boyfriend (at least for the moment), but ultimately they decide not to get caught up in the specifics. There’s a second half of a story still to be told, after all.

“My lack of Orwell levels of allegorical talent aside,” Rantaro clears their throat, “the crow eventually met a koala.”

“Do crows and koalas even exist in the same areas naturally?”

_ “Kokichi.” _

“Geez! It was just a question! Taro-chan is sooooo mean.”

“And this koala,” Rantaro continues, through chuckles, “was… kind of a sad guy, to be honest.” They stop rubbing Kokichi’s back for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to articulate their thoughts. “They’d lost a lot, and it was… mostly their fault, all that had happened, really.” It was  _ entirely  _ their fault, what had happened, but they don’t think saying that to Kokichi will go over very well. In fact, Kokichi grumbles something, probably a denial of this, even as Rantaro is looking away from him. They choose not to address it for now. “But they were drawn in by the crow.”

“Naturally,” Kokichi smirks, puffing out his chest a little. Instinctively, Rantaro messes up his hair, and Kokichi immediately deflates, sticking out his lower lip. “Uncalled for! I hate you! Worst partner of the year award to Amami Taro.”

Rantaro giggles a little. “The crow was interesting, you understand. He was energetic and fun to be around, even if he was immature from time to time.” A smile tugs at Rantaro’s lips. “More than that, though, he had these moments where he was sweet, and the more the koala paid attention, the more they saw him trying to take care of the people around him, even if nobody else noticed, or tried to reciprocate. It sort of made them really like the crow, and want to be around him all the time, even if the crow was probably a bit confused by the sudden attention.”

Yeah, no kidding on that part. Back in high school, there was a period of time where whenever Rantaro brought up wanting to spend time around Kokichi, Kokichi would stare at them blankly for a fraction of a second, like he didn’t understand why Rantaro wanted to stick around. There was a part of Rantaro that hadn’t really understood that either-- it wasn’t like they were  _ immune  _ to getting annoyed, or anything, twelve younger sisters or no-- but at the same time, spending time with Kokichi has always made them feel… different, than they feel around anybody else.

“The crow had a good heart, though, despite his confusion. A really big heart, no matter what he says.” Kokichi scoffs, and Rantaro’s tone takes on a bit of a wry edge, but they don’t lose their smile. “He helped the koala through a lot of tough times, and the koala tried to do the same thing.”

“The koala did just fine for their poorly kin-assigned self,” Kokichi says, moodily, folding his arms across his chest. He looks at Rantaro for a moment, as though waiting for them to continue, but Rantaro doesn’t say anything, just smiling slightly at him. Kokichi huffs. “Well? How’s it end, then, lackey? You’re gonna tell me a story and cuck me of the last couple lines?”

“No,” Rantaro laughs. “No cucking here, I promise. The story ends with the koala somehow getting coerced into joining the crow’s evil organisation and being trapped forever. Call it a Shakespearan tragedy.” They tilt their head. “The koala couldn’t have been happier, though.”

Kokichi starts to laugh at that, sounding surprised, and grins at Rantaro when he recovers, a sly look on his face. “Hmmm. Okay. I’ll accept it, but only because the ending was so satisfying. Next time Taro-chan tries to tell me a mushy gushy story like that, they’re gonna be super duper punished.”

“Yeah? Punished how?” Rantaro raises their eyebrows, and smiles just a little bit when Kokichi hooks his arms around their shoulders, leaning in closer.

“I  _ guess  _ I can just show you,” Kokichi says, his voice faint, his eyes crinkling at the edges in what Rantaro thinks is a genuine smile. “But just this once, okay?”

Rantaro figures that one was a lie, if the way Kokichi hums when their lips meet is any indication. They’ve kissed before. They’ll probably kiss again sometime. It’s a neat way to pass the hours, and a fine punishment at any rate.

...Yeah, couldn’t have been happier. Shitty allegory or not, that one was the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> nnnnfhdnfndhfjh ; w ;


End file.
